Demonica
by mortal-impala-tardis
Summary: Teen Wolf AU. Stiles and the group are all supernatural hunters. And when they have a mission that risks their lives, will they go through with it? Even when the monster they face is an evil alpha werewolf? Slight Stydia tangled in the mix, and Sciles as a major brotp. DISCONTINUED
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is a pretty interesting AU I thought of, sort of a Van Helsing verse-like AU, but not. Everyone enjoy the read!**

Chapter One: New Target

* * *

The sleeping city of Venice was innocent to the sudden gunshots heard coming from the hundred foot clock tower. The lightshow of the weapon rapid firing made hundreds of bystanders walk outside their homes to see what exactly was going on. Whispers resonated through the town square when the city went quiet once more.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering echoed and glass showered over the citizens of Venice. A man leapt from one of the clock tower's windows, and he landed hard on the ground, both feet steady as he straightened himself to a standing position.

He looked like someone straight from a horror film, wearing all black, his skin pale and his dark brown spiky hair turned midnight colored in the darkness of the night, a thick trench coat flowing behind him as he shoved through the staring crowd, his heavy boots stomping against the stone streets. He turned his head back to the people, his eyes cold and dead in the moonlight.

"Go back inside. It's not safe." he commanded, his voice thick with an English accent. He clenched the twin pistols in his hands more tightly as he gestured to the row of houses to his left.

The citizens scattered like ants when their path was ruined, and they all walked back into their homes, turning off the lights and locking their doors once more.

The man no older than twenty turned back and walked straight, whiskey-amber eyes flickering and scanning over every inch of the city.

"Now then…" he muttered to himself. "Where'd you run off to?"

He barely got to turn around when a monstrous figure rammed itself into his shoulder, and he staggered backwards, nearly tripping over his own two feet.

"I'd like to know before I put a bullet in your head," he started, glaring up at the beast in front of him. "what's your name?"

The half-man half-demon disgrace of a person cracked his neck, his skin an unnatural grey color, eyes pure black and teeth caked with rot and deterioration when he smiled. "Pleasure to meet the hunter, my name is Nartis. And yours is?"

The boy held his gun straight as he aimed at the creature.

"Stiles." he breathed out, then squeezed down on the trigger. The monster dodged, moving with incredible, inhuman speeds as he circled behind Stiles, his yellow and molding claws unsheathed and ready to strike.

Stiles spun on his heel, now both pistols firing, one right side up, the other upside down as he continued to turn and follow Nartis in circles. A bullet hit the beast in the back and he flew forward, crumpling to the ground.

Stiles slid his left hand pistol back into it's respectful holster on his left leg as he walked to Nartis, who was scrambling to escape, but his body wouldn't obey. He was practically paralyzed.

"You won't be able to move." Stiles reloaded the gun with more silver, shining bullets. "My bullets are laced with a paralysis poison. And since three of them grazed you, it was a wonder you still ran."

He aimed the gun at Nartis' head. "I give you credit for that. Any last words, monster?" he asked, the last word dripping with hatred.

Nartis cracked another wide smile, stretching from ear to ear. "Nous vénérons le monstre lunaire de la lune." he growled. Stiles eyes widened slightly, but they hardened with cold anger before he pulled the trigger. Nartis' went completely still, one last breath leaving his lungs.

Stiles stared down at his pistol, licking his lips with confusion. "What did he mean 'we worship the lunar moon monster'?" He looked up at the open sky, stars painted onto the midnight sky canvas, and in a far corner was the moon, near completely full, soon to be whole in less than five days.

* * *

"You broke the _clock tower_!?"

Stiles shrugged, picking at his ear as he sighed, listening to his boss ranting on.

"That's going to come from _your _paycheck! I will _not_ pay for _your_ mess anymore, Stilinski!"

The chair Stiles was sitting in squeaked as he leaned it forward from it's previous position of balancing on it's hind legs. "Ah! But I am the best you've got when it comes to hunters!"

"But at least the others are respectful of my budget Stiles!" the older, bald man screamed, grabbing Stiles' black button up shirt by it's collar and pulling the boy to his feet. "Besides, you're not even _old_ enough for this job."

"But I'm your best, you like me more than the others." Stiles complained.

The man nodded. "I do, which is why I'm giving you _one last chance_ to prove yourself _without_ breaking _anything_! You do, and your seventeen-year-old ass is to an orphanage again!"

Stiles nodded, nearly skipping as he twirled his sapphire steel knife in his hands. "I won't disappoint, I promise!" he called as he left the small stone room. He closed the door behind him and ran up the stairs, skipping every other step. He walked right into a large underground room, with workers forging swords, making guns, sewing leathers and clothes together for other hunters, and many more tasks taking at hand. Stiles walked up to a table where a worker was creating silver bullets.

"Hey Allison." he smiled. The girl tucked her mahogany brown hair behind her ear and rolled her eyes. A smile followed. "Hey Stiles." she responded as she filled the last bullet mold with the steaming liquid silver.

Stiles cleared his throat. "So, where's everyone else?" he asked. Allison lifted the mold up and carefully placed it into an oven just above the fire. "Well…" she looked up as if she had to think about it. "…Scott's talking to Isaac. They're about to take another mission, C class I think. And Lydia is getting her crossbow restrung. Apparently a Harpy cut the strings on her last mission, but I think she was just being clumsy."

"And why are you taking your dad's job? He's the bullet maker, not you. You're the hunter." Stiles said matter-of-factly, sheathing his knife, which he was still twirling beforehand.

Allison smiled. "My dad hasn't been in the field for years. He wanted to go on another job, just one more since-…" She paused, looking up at Stiles, who was staring at the ground now. He shifted uncomfortably as he finished her sentence. "Since my mom and dad were killed on his last mission."

She sat silently for a minute, nodding. The bullets then began to sizzle and the two turned their attention to them. Allison pulled them from the fire. "Go get Scott for me, tell him his bullets are finished." she ordered. Stiles nodded and walked off. In most cases, she would have done it herself, but she felt guilty for bringing up such a sensitive subject.

Stiles made his way through the maze of people and machinery working until he rounded a corner and walked into the mission choosing room. Five or six hunters were staring at a massive billboard, one with papers and newsletters tacked all over it. Stiles spotted his usual partner in crime and eased his way to the front of the crowd where he was, standing next to Isaac, a guy he didn't exactly like the best.

Stiles tapped Scott's shoulder, and the slightly taller man spun around, smiling. "Stiles! You're back from your solo mission. An E class, right? How'd it go?"

Scott was always a chipper and happy person, which always brought a good mood on for Stiles. He tapped his foot before speaking up. "Uh, it was easy. Hey, Allison's done with the bullets." Stiles looked down at the paper in Scott's hand. "What's the mission?"

Scott looked to Isaac, a tall blonde with a sassy attitude. He then grinned and leaned in close to Stiles, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. "Dude, it's an A class! We're gonna take it!" he whispered. Stiles raised an eyebrow and backed away a little. "Isn't it _my_ job to be destructive, impulsive, and to choose the stupid missions that would normally get someone killed?"

Scott furrowed his brow in thought. "Never mind. Scott, it's an A class mission. Only senior hunters can take A class missions. And we're nowhere _near_ A class. We're teens!"

"You mean _you're_ teen." Isaac scoffed behind Scott. Stiles rolled his eyes at Isaac, who looked off in a different direction like he didn't say anything. Stiles looked back at Scott. "Who's going? And what's the mission asking?"

"Allison, me, you…if you want, Isaac and Lydia. And the mission is saying that a lead alpha werewolf is terrorizing a small village, and they need help instantly. It was only posted on the board a few hours ago!"

Stiles normally would say no, especially since the danger levels, but his childhood crush was going to be there. He had to go, mainly for her, but also for the challenge and the glory it would bring them. They would graduate to B class if they did this mission.

"Alright…" Stiles said slyly. "I'm in."

* * *

**A/N: So just so I clarify a few things. One, there are a lot more than werewolves in this. Like…all sorts of beasties. Two, everyone but Stiles is their actor's age-ish. Like, Scott will be 22, Isaac will be 23, Lydia probably 23, Allison 24. Stiles is the only one who's the Teen Wolf age. And three, this is supposed to take place in the 1800s-ish time frame.**

**So, hope you liked. Happy reviews make the world go round! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Next chapter? I kinda got this idea from the Lunar Eclipse now that I think about it! XD**

Chapter Two: The Small City North of Bristol

* * *

Scott handed Stiles his second pistol, which Stiles gratefully took and put in it's holster. He then slipped on his infamous black leather trench coat and black mid-calf high boots. He quickly buckled the silver straps on his boots and then slid on a pair of fingerless gloves, and then he stood, looking over the group.

Scott was just finishing putting bullets into his weapon, and he was already geared up in thick clothing. Allison was checking her metal-made bow and looking over her arrows, before putting them back into her quiver. Isaac was having trouble putting on his shoes, which looked a size small for him. And Lydia was tying her cherry blonde hair back in a pony tail.

Once Isaac finally got the footwear on, the group was ready.

"Let's go." Scott said. Allison lead the way, followed by Lydia, Isaac and Scott. Stiles left last, having second thoughts but ignoring them.

They stepped outside and into the streets of London, which were practically empty at such a late hour. Scott locked the door to the building with the key which they hid inside a loose brick, accessible on either side of the door.

The group walked around back and to the horses' pen. Lydia had always had used her specific horse, named Whiteshadow because of it's pure white fur, but it's black mane and tail, while everyone else got a random horse. "We're heading to Bristol, and from there on it's a straight shot north, to Widdowshire." Scott announced.

They each reared their horses and took off, riding in a group, nobody straying ahead or lingering behind.

* * *

The ride to Widdowshire was long and tiring. They only took a few breaks every couple of hours, and they reached their destination before the sun could set. The village was small, with only a couple hundred people, maybe less. A tall church's steeple was where they were told to head towards.

As their horses ran into the city, many whispers and talks between the village people surrounded them. Isaac liked the attention, and he smiled, waving only a little before Scott stopped him.

Stiles was the first to dismount his horse, and Scott was right behind him. The group walked up the steps of the church and yanked open the doors. A man, wearing the reverend's clothes, closed the gap between and he held out his hand for them to shake. They each did, and the man folded his hands in front of himself.

"I thank you for coming so quickly." the older man began. Scott nodded.

"Anything to help." he told the reverend. They followed the man as he lead them down the narrow isle in between the rows of benches.

The religious man cleared his throat with unease as he began. "It started three weeks ago. Our village used to be quiet and happy, but then _he_ came. And he and his _pack_ kidnapped our people, then left their corpses outside the village walls. We have had twenty more deaths in less than a month. We can't live like this anymore."

Isaac stepped forward to speak. "How much are you offering?"

The reverend seemed a little offended by Isaac asking how much money they'd earn, but he answered anyway. "You will each personally gain two hundred, and your embassy would have one thousand."

Scott blanched. "That's a _lot_. You must really want this thing gone."

The reverend nodded. "It's dangerous. Two other groups came to get rid of him and his pack, and…well…it didn't end well for them I'm afraid."

Stiles looked to Lydia and Allison, who were both slightly shocked. He ruffled his hair slightly before stepping in front of Scott. "We'll help you. We're the best embassy around, no need to worry."

A lie.

They were certainly _not_ the best out there. The French had an amazing supernatural-killing party, but they were all trigger-happy fools who were only in for the money. But they were good at what they did, just expensive.

The reverend took Stiles' hands in his own and thanked him over and over before releasing them and disappearing somewhere inside the church. The group left and were guided to a small inn to stay at. Sadly, there was only one bed, and the guys had agreed that the girls would sleep on the bed, while they slept on the floor.

Stiles watched from the balcony as the sun set, nestling itself behind a forest, making the trees look orange, red and gold like it was on fire. But he was drawn away from the beautiful sight by something shaking the tree tops, snapping a few.

He strained his eyes to get a good look, leaning far over the wooden railing. He suddenly jerked back and held his breath, looking down at the townspeople, who were gathering wood for their fires, buying foods from the small markets, and mingling with one another.

Stiles bit his lip as he saw the phenomena was getting closer. With a last ditch effort, he took a deep breath.

"Everyone get inside!" he screamed. The people looked up at him on the balcony in confusion. Stiles rolled his eyes and pointed towards the forest. It took them a moment, but they all screamed and ran inside their homes.

Scott and Lydia were on either side of him, and Allison and Isaac were nearby. Scott climbed onto the ledge, his feet balancing as he stood up tall. "What is that?" he asked. Stiles looked up at him, then got onto the railing too. "I have no idea."

The boys leapt from the two story drop and landed on the muddy ground in unison. Lydia dropped their weapons from the balcony before the leapt down, a crossbow in her hands. Stiles checked his dual pistols, and Scott tapped his massive gun with unease.

A werewolf, massive, with dark skin and gold eyes, leapt from the forest and towards them. Lydia aimed her crossbow but missed the beast by an few inches. It tackled Stiles, Scott and Lydia to the ground. Stiles shot randomly and the wolf rolled off them, charging once more. Scott raised his gun only to be thrown to the side by another werewolf, this one a girl with long blonde hair and beating eyes.

Lydia shot her crossbow, hitting the male werewolf in the shoulder, but his charge continued until he was nearly in front of them. Stiles shot twice and the wolf tore it's attention to Stiles, who backed up against a building and continued fire, hitting the beast three times in the chest. It dropped right in front of his feet, and Stiles stared off a bit with surprise. He noticed Scott was already taking down the female wolf.

Stiles walked past the dead-

-not dead.

The werewolf grabbed his leg and yanked downward, making Stiles fall flat onto the ground. He spun around and shot at the wolf a few more times, but it seemed that the bullets just bounced off him. One of Lydia's arrows, however, ran right through the wolf's skull, and Stiles dragged himself away from it, cringing as his leg throbbed, a few of the claws most likely imbedded inside his skin.

Stiles dragged himself to his feet and fired at the female wolf, who was in the middle of snapping and biting at Scott's head, missing barely. Stiles shot her twice in the head and she collapsed on top of Scott.

Scott looked between Stiles and Lydia before speaking up. "Is it just me or did those things have force fields or something around them?"

Stiles kneeled quickly and rolled up his pant leg, rolling his tongue with disgust at the nasty looking claws sticking out of his wound. He swiftly plucked them out and tossed them to the ground, stomping them into the dirt once he stood again.

"No, something was definitely on their side. It took me more than a few bullets, which shouldn't happen. I never miss." Stiles said. Lydia walked up to them. "And I shot both of them with arrows multiple times. They were slow, so it was easy. But they just bounced off in a different direction.

Only then did Stiles notice that there _were_ a few arrows sticking out of the ground, like Lydia was _aiming _for the mud. Stiles noticed a few glimmering bullets, too.

"What kind of magic is that?" Scott asked. Lydia shrugged.

The three turned around to face the wolf Stiles was fighting, only he wasn't there. Only a mess of blood and a broken arrow was evidence he ever existed. They spun around and saw that the she-wolf was gone as well.

"What the hell?" Stiles' voice cracked slightly. "I saw you run an arrow right through it's brains! Where the _fuck_ is it!?"

Scott tapped his foot nervously. "Calm down, Stiles. She must have missed or something."

Stiles laughed angrily. "Scott, I was _inches_ away from the shot! I know what I saw! And where is Isaac and Allison?"

The question made the three of them go silent. With one look between each other, they rushed inside the building, searching through it. They all, eventually, met up in the middle of the first floor's room. "It's empty. They're gone."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: NEEXT!**

Chapter Three: Get Them Back

* * *

Stiles, Scott and Lydia stood awkwardly as they positioned themselves in a row on the steps of the church, having to face the village people and already saying that they basically failed. Scott cleared his throat and tapped his foot as he spoke.

"As you heard…" he started, sighing as he stared at the worried, concerned, and somewhat angry citizens of the small town. "…the werewolves kidnapped two of our members. We're going to follow them up the mountain and save them." he announced, pointing towards the peak that the wolves had ran from.

"No need!" one of the village people called. Stiles felt a sudden anger at the thought of abandoning his friends.

"What do you mean?!" he called back, a snap of hate in his words.

"I mean that they're bodies are gonna be rotting by the gates in at least two days, so what's the point?" the man asked, now stepping forward. He was older, with bright red hair and a strong stature. Stiles rolled his eyes at the stupid question.

"The point is to _bring them back_? None of you cowards thought of it-" Scott cut off Stiles before he could continue further in angering the people.

"We're going to bring them back. And we're going to kill any wolves that get in our way. We _will_ save this village from being harmed any more." Scott spoke with confidence. Stiles could have sworn that he was standing taller than he was before he started his heroic speech.

* * *

The hike was tiring, and it took hours. By the time they were at the base of the mountain, which looked closer than it actually was, it had already been two hours. Stiles stared at the slight slope in front of them, that small incline of land would soon lead to an intense climb. He rolled his eyes and groaned, then took the first step. Lydia and Scott followed after him.

"Why the hell were they kidnapped in the first place?" Lydia asked out loud.

Scott shrugged. Stiles choked back a laugh. "Well, Isaac isn't the most reliable person in the world." Lydia gave him a glare, but then raised her eyebrows. She wasn't disagreeing.

"By the way, Stiles…" Scott looked to him, the tips of his hair turning orange with the sunset behind Scott. "…what-"

Scott flew backwards, his left leg falling through the ground, up to his knee. He landed with a thud, his head hitting harshly on the cold, nearly frozen dirt. Stiles smirked and helped pull out his limb as he flailed, trying to get it loose.

"What is that!?" Scott practically screamed, his voice cracking. Stiles patted his shoulder as he looked to the gaping hole in the mountain. "Dude, I think you just found the entrance to a secret cave." Lydia looked down the hole, and nodded. "Yeah, he's right. I see firelight down there, and-…oh my god, it's Allison and Isaac!"

Stiles scurried next to her and looked down the hole. Scott was hovering above them to look next.

Sure enough, Allison and Isaac sat in a small cell, with the iron bars and everything, unharmed, luckily, but shackled with metal chains. Stiles looked to his two fellow hunters, then back at the hole. "Well, only one way in by the looks of it."

He stood up and ignored Lydia's protests as he stomped, hard, on the ground. He then fell through, landing flat on his back. He coughed as dirt and dust rose in clouds, and he waved it away. He squinted, staring up at Lydia and Scott, then looking forward to Allison and Isaac, who were both completely shocked.

"Hey," he waved to them. "thought I'd just drop by."

"And who's this?"

Stiles sat up and spun around in one swift motion, his hand on his pistol, startled by the foreign voice. In the corner of the cave a man sat, with black hair and stubble, his eyes a cold hazel-green color. He wore messy, torn clothes, covered with dirt. When he smiled, a shiver ran up Stiles' spine.

"I'm Stiles." he introduced himself, standing up but in an attack position. The man rose to his feet from previously sitting on a stool. "Nice to meet you. I'm Derek."

* * *

**A/N: I apologize for not updating sooner. I just had ZERO inspiration. And I'd rather wait and write something good than rush and it being a piece of klunk.**


End file.
